


the wound larger than the weapon

by mayfieldsmayhem



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I think these tags are good?, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Parental Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Parental Death, and I don't think henry ever meant to intentionally cause sal harm, and partially meant to comfort myself and also sal, anyway. I care about these two, but I think they loved each other a lot, it was partially a vent, my feelings on sal and henry's relationship are very complex tbh, oh also featuring my hc that sal stutters when extremely upset, sorry if this is like super heavy, which is. another projection. sorry y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25776748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayfieldsmayhem/pseuds/mayfieldsmayhem
Summary: has henry been making him feel this way, sown that seed of guilt so deep that no matter how many times he hears it, sal will never believe itwasn'this fault?
Relationships: Henry Fisher & Sal Fisher
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	the wound larger than the weapon

**Author's Note:**

> so this one is,, very important to me.
> 
> before I say anything else, I want to explain a bit: I do think henry probably realized, at some point, that his alcoholism was hurting and affecting his relationship with sal. at what point this would be, I'm not entirely sure - sometime after moving into the apartments, maybe? if I had to pick a time for this to occur, it would happen shortly after episode 1.
> 
> sal and henry's realtionship is a very complex one and I kinda just wanted to illustrate that. uh, and maybe there's a little projection regarding sal here. alcoholism from parents is very difficult to deal with, and sal and I kinda share that experience.
> 
> anyway sorry that was a lot!! uh I guess the only tws here are: implied/referenced parental abandonment (mainly from henry's p.o.v. and worrying that's what he did), implied/referenced alcoholism, and discussion of death (regarding diane). I think that's it!
> 
> if anyone needs smth else tagged lmk. otherwise, please tread carefully & enjoy!!

henry can't sleep.

it's been a very long time since he's felt genuinely well-rested or slept through the night. he almost doesn't even remember the last time he did.

he knows that sal barely gets any real rest either. although he doesn't wake up shrieking and sobbing every single night anymore, that doesn't mean the nightmares have gone away, or that it's gotten any easier to deal with the lasting insomnia.

and it definitely doesn't mean that sal doesn't have screaming night terrors at all.

tonight, though, the apartment is silent in the way it can only get when it's well into the small hours of the morning, and henry finds himself leaving his bedroom to get something to drink from the kitchen. nothing alcoholic - no matter how tempted he may be. he made a promise. he has to keep trying.

what he doesn't expect is to find his son already there, leaning heavily against the counter with both hands woven through his sleep-mussed hair. the closer he gets, the more obvious one fact becomes: he is shaking, knees almost knocking together with the force of his full-body trembling.

"sal?" henry whispers, and he does not miss the way sal jumps like he's been shocked.

"oh, _je-jesus -_ s-suh-sorry," sal mumbles back, and henry can't help but frown at the stutter in his son's voice. it's clear and unrestricted, so he must not be wearing his prosthetic, but his voice is nonetheless tremulous and fragile-sounding. sal only ever stutters when he's extremely upset.

"you're alright, bud. everything okay?" henry knows the answer before he even asks, but he figures he should at least voice it anyway. regardless of whether or not sal answers him truthfully, he knows that his son appreciates him asking at all.

"mhm," sal hums softly. he tenses, for a bit, and then his shoulders relax and he lets out a sigh so deep it sounds like it comes from the very lows of his chest. illuminated by the rogue glow of the small flashlight sal keeps for walking around the apartment in the dark, henry watches the tears and hollows of sal's scars tug as he frowns.

"actually, n-not rea-lly," he says at last, his voice cracking multiple times in the short sentence. he's fifteen - it happens a lot more often these days as sal's voice goes through changes - but henry can tell the cracks cannot simply be blamed on puberty. "I h-huh-had -" he pauses, frustrated, before continuing, "- I had th-the nightm-mare of the ho-hospital again."

(and sal's small, shaking voice makes something _ache_ in henry's heart then.)

"wi-with the gra-grave," sal adds, almost as an afterthought, though henry knows that's sal's least favourite part about this particular nightmare. the first time he ever told henry about it, he could barely get his words out through the chest-splitting sobs that were only marginally calmed by henry holding him, pressing him to his shoulder as sal's hands dug into the fabric of his sleepshirt at his sides. after sal falls into diane's grave, he emerges into the hospital, where henry - 

he will never forget the way his son looked at him then, with his one remaining eye rimmed red and filled with tears. he will never forget the quiet despair with which sal told him what he'd said in the nightmare: _you are not my son. my son is not a murderer._ he will never forget how he cried, because he could do nothing to soothe sal's guilt when he still can't really process his own.

he'd felt so helpless, then.

"oh, buddy," henry whispers, keeping his voice as low and as soft as possible. he figures it might be the right thing to do as sal is still so keyed up, still so shaken. sure, he may not have screamed this time, but it's obvious it still feels like he's experiencing it for the first time all over again. this nightmare is the one that rattles sal the most.

"'m sorry, I tr-tried to be quiet, but I - I just." sal gestures weakly around himself in lieu of any further response, hands splayed out even as they shake.

"you didn't wake me up," is all henry can say.

"oh."

a bout of silence falls between them then, and all henry can hear is the harsh sounds of sal sucking in air through his teeth and the faint whistling where he's missing one or two. then, without any sort of warning and with an urgency henry's not seen since sal was maybe eleven, trembling arms are wrapping tight around his middle and sal is crying.

"okay," henry murmurs, bringing one of his hands up gingerly to cup the back of sal's head, his fingers weaving through that same electric blue hair his son got from him. his other hand drifts up and down sal's back as far as he can reach, alternating between running it along his spine and rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. "you're okay, kiddo. it's okay."

 _"dad,"_ sal sobs, and henry has to clench his jaw to keep the awful noise of despair his son's tone brings out trapped in his throat. he's never dealt well with hearing sal hurt. it hurts _him._

"I know," henry says after a brief pause, clearing his throat to ensure that he isn't about to wail himself. "I know, bud, I know."

and sal is fifteen years old but he still feels so _small_ in his arms, crying in this horribly wounded and agonized way that always brings henry himself to tears with how deeply pained his son sounds. all he can ever think about in these moments is how this is his son, his child, his _baby_ and he's hurting and there's not much else he can do to fix it other than just _be there._

"I miss her," sal whispers raggedly, and the way it comes out makes it sound like he hadn't meant to say it out loud, but ended up doing so anyway. "I wi-wish I never -" he chokes on his tears, for a moment, coughing lightly. "I wish I'd j-juh-just been a go-good kid and _l-listened."_

henry can't help it now; his vision blurs completely for a split second before clearing again, and he realizes faintly that a tear is rolling down his cheek.

"sal, you _are_ a good kid. you couldn't have known. every kid does that sometimes, you know? no kid listens to their parents 100% of the time." henry has to pause, just to clear his throat.

"and I promise it wasn't your fault," he tells sal, and though his voice is a near whisper and would likely be inaudible to anyone else, henry knows sal has heard him by the way his back tenses beneath henry's hand and then he lets out this loud, crackling sob that comes straight from his heart. it's not really a sob of relief, but it isn't one of pure agony, either. it's more like acceptance, like something that he's still trying to comprehend.

"bu-but it _was,"_ sal gasps, in that high and breathless way he does that's always shaken henry to his very core. it's both the words and the way he says them, the way they're unshaken in their conviction which tells him that sal really, truly does believe what happened that day was his fault and his fault alone. it was never just about the nightmare, never just about unbidden subconscious thoughts.

has henry been making him feel this way, sown that seed of guilt so deep that no matter how many times he hears it, sal will never believe it _wasn't his fault?_ or has he been encouraging a feeling that has long since made a home in his son's heart, unwitting and unknowing? henry knows he hasn't been the best man, hasn't been around nearly as much as he should have been, hasn't been much of a father - but had he really failed sal this badly?

another trembling cry brings henry out of his thoughts. no, this isn't about him. they can have a talk about that later - later, when sal is calmed down and able to breathe easily on his own, when they've both slept more than a couple hours so that they're able to have a proper conversation. sal deserves his complete transparency - more than that, though, sal needs to know how much henry loves him and how deeply he cares. clearly, henry's not done a good job of showing either.

"I love you," henry whispers gently, genuinely. "I love you more than anything in this world, you hear me?"

sal's breath hitches, like it's gotten caught in his throat, like he's _surprised._ it breaks henry's heart worse than possibly anything ever has. fuck, he's _really_ messed up here. still, though, he can read the gratefulness in the squeezing of sal's arms, which have actually lost some of their shakiness. good, that's good. he's coming down.

"love you to-too," he says back, with minimal stuttering or cracking. it's then, though, that henry can feel sal's full weight (admittedly not very much) collapse against him, like he's tired of trying to hold himself up anymore or just _tired,_ period. and henry catches him, because sal needs him and he's not going to flinch away from being the father he was meant to be again.

"it wasn't your fault," henry says again, because he needs to. he needs sal to know. "I've never - I never blamed you, buddy. you were just a kid. you were _six,_ sal. it wasn't your fault. and I know that -" henry has to swallow hard, here. just to force the words through his lips, because no matter how true they are, they still hurt to say. it still hurts to say her name. "I know that if mom could, she'd tell you the same thing."

finally, sal's head comes up from against henry's chest, that one blue eye red and shining and _exhausted._ "you think so?" he asks, and he sounds so remarkably like a child again that henry can't fight the trembling of his lips as he moves the hand that was at the back of sal's head to brush away some messy blue strands from his son's face, just so he can see him. so he can see his son as he is.

"I know so," henry responds, leaning down a little awkwardly to press a kiss to the top of sal's head. "I promise. she loves - we love you so much, bluejay."

god, it's been a very long time since henry's let that little nickname float past his lips. it was diane's favourite - henry mostly stuck to things like kid, kiddo, buddy, little man, or simply just _sal -_ but saying it right now feels right. feels normal. and he knows it was the right move when sal gives him this crooked, sweet little smile that shows off his teeth, another tear slipping down sal's cheek that henry knows isn't pure sadness anymore.

"okay," sal breathes, still smiling. "okay."

and henry thinks, _yeah. we'll be okay._

they'll talk about this - maybe not first thing tomorrow, but they will. henry will lay it all out for him, won't leave anything out so that sal understands exactly what he means. he's going to stop shying away like a scared child from the things that are hard to talk about. he's going to sit there with his son and tell him, _we'll get through this together._ he's going to apologize, probably many times, and he's not going to expect anything of sal right that moment. not trust, not forgiveness, not anything.

but henry is going to try.

and maybe if they do it together, they'll be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a LOT of feelings on sal and henry's father-son relationship; so much so that this isn't even all of them. but what I want to stress here is that I don't think henry ever did anything out of malice - i.e., he never meant to hurt sal. the way he coped with his grief, however, DID end up hurting sal, whether he knew it or not (and I think henry did figure that out eventually). I never doubted that henry loved his son, or that sal loved his dad, because it's so evident in their interactions, even when it's just sal talking abt him.
> 
> I also want to say that I think henry thought he was doing the best he could, but that in reality, he wasn't much of a dad to sal for a long time. we get a lot of hints in-game that this is the case, most notably in episode one. as a father, henry wasn't there much for sal. that's just how it is. I think henry got better with time, but sal's got to have some feelings on the matter. I kind of want to explore that as well in a separate piece, maybe.
> 
> I kind of have conflicting views on henry myself, so I guess that's why I wrote it lol?? oh, and title from dear eros by traci brimhall!!


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